Page 48 of Scandalous Kingpin
It would appear that this woman wrapped in my arms, her breath tickling across my chest, was what I’d been waiting for my entire life.
She was breaking down the walls I’d built and rules I’d set to protect myself.
But there was also a sense of shock that vibrated through me. I’d always hated the intimacy that came along with sex. It was the reason I never got attached, never had women stay the night, and was always careful to keep from touching them and forming that deeper connection.
Until now. Until her.
The fact that I couldn’t get enough of her should be alarming, but it wasn’t. It felt strangely right. I was starved for more—so much more.
Her soft lips curled into a dreamy smile as I reached down and brushed a lock of her silky red hair back from her face. I had my driver take us across town, back to my penthouse, and heldher hand the whole way as she dozed in and out. Her cheek was hot against my chest and her small hand splayed across my thigh felt sinful. Almost as if she were claiming me.
I knew I was gone for her, that I’d never look at another woman again, and to know she might feel the same way, feel a sense of ownership over me…? Well, that had my blood sizzling for her all over again.
Once my driver parked us in the underground garage, I scooped up my wife, bridal-style, and carried her to the elevator, which took us to the top floor.
“You know I can walk,” she protested, her wedding dress crumpled up around her soft curves.
“I want to carry you over the threshold.”
She chuckled softly but didn’t complain again. Once the doors slid open to the foyer, Cobra greeted us, waggling her tail excitedly. Ivy smiled softly at her, whispered praises, then leaned over to scratch her behind the ear, and jealousy shot through me.
“Cobra, go to your bed,” I grumbled begrudgingly. “Ivy’s mine now.”
My wife laughed, and repeated the order, then with Cobra gone, I walked us straight to the master bathroom where I set my wife down and started a bath. Her eyes followed my every move as I dumped her favorite salts into the tub, then tested the temperature of the water.
“You don’t have to do this,” she protested, her eyes locked on mine through the mirror. I tilted my head and took in the scene around us from her perspective. Ivy, standing a foot and a half shorter than me now that she’d taken off her shoes. Her hair was disheveled and her eyes half-lidded, wearing a thoroughly fucked expression that matched the state of her dress.
Fuck, had we ruined it? “I’ll get it cleaned, I promise,” I murmured, pinching the material between my fingers and letting it fall gently.
Her breath caught and she gave me a shy smile. “I’m not worried, but thank you. It’d be nice to pass the dress on to my daughter one day.”
Daughter.
We’d never talked about kids, although now was hardly the time.
I helped her out of her dress and held her hand as she lowered herself into the clawfoot tub, the water quickly submerging her. A soft sigh left her lips and she closed her eyes for a moment.
“Better?”
“Gosh, yes,” she moaned. “Thank you.”
I removed my jacket, then undid my cufflinks and rolled up my sleeves, noting how my wife watched me through her thick lashes. I crouched beside her and reached for one of the products I had my housekeeper stock for her, pouring it into a washcloth.
Starting with her shoulders, I rubbed circles over her taut muscles. They loosened with every passing second, and her head fell back against the rim.
“For someone who’s never done this before, you’re doing a perfect job,” she said, never opening her eyes, her voice softer than a fresh snowfall.
There were things I never desired or intended to do, but here I was with my beautiful wife, wanting nothing more than to leave her feeling content.
I wanted her to stay here with me forever. Even when all my ghosts came out to play. Even when I was at my darkest and lowest.
Despite the understanding she’d shown me time after time, I was all too aware that she’d spent her life in the care of a familywho loved her. Sure, she was fiercely independent and unafraid to take what she wanted, but I couldn’t let myself forget that there was a darkness to this world, tome, that she’d never been exposed to. How could I expect her to love the ugly, broken parts of me?
The answer came to me as I washed the suds from her locks. It was simple: I would never let her see them.
Chapter Twenty-Three
IVY
